Chasing Cars
by myevilregal
Summary: Emma moves back to Storybrooke after Regina had unexpectedly broken off their engagement. Emma needs to get over Regina, but the mayor had somehow gotten her icy grip around Emma's heart. Emma POV. SwanQueen.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Characters/ONCE aren't mine.**

Regina sits on the edge of the bed and puts her earrings in. Little pearl studs that I remember getting her a couple years back. She poufs her hair up a bit and stands. She steps into her black heels that had been tossed somewhere last night. I watch her from where I lay in the bed. The blankets are tucked around my legs and the pillows behind me are flat, but I prop my head up using the bed's backboard.

She puts on her coat and wraps her scarf carefully around her neck as she walks to the door. Glancing back she looks as though she's about to say something, but she doesn't. She never does.

I'd given her plenty opportunities. Plenty of opportunities to say something. Anything. But she never speaks. From the first time, when she slammed her lips hotly against mine about a month after when she broke off the engagement, until now, a year later. Not a single word. She tries not to make any noise at all while we "revisit", but it is impossible for Regina to be quiet.

It happens about once a month. I try to get her to speak, to answer my questions. So many questions that I think about every day. Why did we even break up? A simple _I can't do this anymore _isn't good enough.

"Enlighten me," I would plead, "what happened?" But I was done with no explanations, so I packed up and left.

Henry visits my Boston apartment every chance he gets a break from college. My little man had grown up.

She walks out the door. Good riddance.

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"She asked about you."

I look up from my plate and across the dinner table to where Henry sits. This was something new. I raise an eyebrow.

"The other day, we were eating dinner and she asked about you."

My ears perk up though I try not to act too interested, "Hmph."

"She asked how you were doing."

Like she wouldn't know; she had just visited me, what, a week ago? Maybe if she wouldn't be so stubborn and talk, she would actually know.

"What did you say?"

"I told her that you were fine."

I nod and push my corn around my plate. That ends our conversation.

Henry looks up at me, "Thanks for dinner, Mom."

I smile, "Sure thing, kid."

He stands up and gets his coat from the back of his chair. I frown.

"Aren't you staying?"

He shakes his head and looks at me sheepishly, "I- uh, promised Mom I'd go see her before I go back."

"It's okay, I had some stuff to do anyways.." I try not to look disappointed.

"Mom," he breathes. He walks around to the table and hugs me. He rests his head atop mine. He's so tall. I miss my little boy.

"Maybe I could see you some next weekend?"

I smile and nod at him, "That sounds great."

I squeeze him close and murmur, "Don't forget to call."

He sighs, "Mom, you're turning into…" he trails off.

I step back and raise my brow, "What was that?"

He laughs and hugs me again, "Well, you're turning into Mom."

I half-heartedly smile at him and then look to the floor.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything…"

I smile at him, "It's fine."

He looks at his watch, "Whoa! I didn't realize what time it is; I gotta go!"

I smile at him as he walks to the door.

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, kid."

As I walk to my room, I still can't comprehend that Regina asked about me. So, she still does wonder about me? I still wonder about her. I haven't ever asked Henry about her though. Well, maybe that's a lie. There was this one time, okay, two times. Three at most. But I never thought of the fact that she might wonder about me.

I shake off my jeans and change into a more comfortable shirt. I know dreams of Regina will plague me tonight. And tomorrow. Dreams of Regina would plague me forever. Her scent. Her voice. Her eyes. I slip into bed and let exhaustion settle in.

Work hadn't been too bad today; Lenny had given me an easy case. Some old geezer who

didn't pay a speeding ticket and didn't show up to court. It was easy money that got me a week of groceries. I toss around in my bed some, feeling the comforter envelop me. It felt nice. It'd be nicer if someone was in it with me. If she was in it with me.

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I may not be the roughest. Or the toughest. But I think I am able to take some damage.

When the bullet hit me, I only screamed once. There was some cursing- that was inevitable- but I didn't moan like some weak chick. I cried, but I wasn't sobbing or anything. By the time the ambulance had got there, the perp had fled, but that moron was stupid enough to not hide his plates.

It had sounded like a normal case, some high school dropout who had skipped out on bail. I had done a ton of these before; it was no big deal. But this dude, who looked like he was on steroids, did not want to come with me. He had pulled out his little handgun and I was about to do the same when I realized I had left it in my purse. At my house. Along with my pepper spray. I knew I was screwed. At least I had enough sense to make sure his bullet went somewhere in my arm than in my head.

They were able to get it out without surgery, but it still hurt like a bitch. A couple more days in the hospital they said. It wasn't too horrible. But those damn mashed potatoes tasted like glue and the water was so sterile I'm surprised my teeth weren't bleached.

I flick past channels on the small little TV in front of me to find something decent to watch while I wait. My room is separated into two sections by a small blue curtain that I prefer to keep stretched out. My roommate is some old lady named Barbara who had to get a hip replaced or something like that. She sleeps most of the day, but when she's not, the room is filled with the sounds of the 5 O'clock News. Correction, the room is not just filled with it; it is blasted throughout the entire hospital. I'm surprised the anesthetics are able to knock people in spite of the racket.

I settle on some movie that probably never went to theaters. Something about a woman living in Manhattan I think. I look out the window at the drab bakery next to the hospital. Maybe I could get some bear claws there after I got released; I was going through a doughnut withdrawal. So what if I had only skipped them for 3 days? Don't judge me.

I grab a pen and the pad of paper from the little desk next to my bed and start to doodle on it. Little swirls encase a heart. I realize what I've drawn and rip it from the pad. Stupid lop-sided heart. I crumple the paper and toss it towards the bin in the corner of the room, but it glances off the side and skids across the floor. Well shit. Oh, a nurse will get it or something.

Instead I try to sketch a tree. But trees remind me of a specific tree. And a specific house. And a specific person. This one sinks into the bin no problem, but now I can't draw anything, it all reminds me of her. An apple. Heels. Eyes. A cat. Why does a cat remind me of her? I haven't a damn idea. I give up on drawing and set the pad down. I spend the next few minutes clicking the pen. Click click click. I probably fiddle with it for 5 minutes before I hear a groan from the other side of the curtain, "Lady. Some people are trying to sleep."

I stick out my tongue at the curtain and finally set down the pen. I turn my attention back to the TV and watch a commercial for some yogurt or something. A little girl runs through a wheat field while someone talks about 'staying healthy'. Eh, who needs health?

I'm tempted to start clicking my pen again, but I'm pretty sure Barbara would rip through the curtain and smack me with her cane. Now I remember why I hate hospitals; they are more boring than watching grass grow. Seriously, if someone were to offer me some grass seeds and some dirt, I would be more entertained. Maybe I had ADHD. That would explain a lot.

"Lady!" I look over towards the curtain and then look at my hands. I had subconsciously started to click my pen again. The curtain opens and I see the wrinkled face of Barbara. She strangely resembled Barbara Streisand- but with more wrinkles and lines.

"You got something on your mind or something?" Her New York accent is weaved throughout her speech.

I shrug, "Not really. I'm just tired of being in this hospital; there's nothing to do."

"Tell me about it," she re-adjusts herself so she is more comfortably facing me, "I just got a hip replacement, but I might as well be dead cause of how boring this dump is."

I chuckle in spite of myself, this lady was sort of funny- but then again I was laughing at a Progressive commercial earlier (I was desperate for some humor).

"So, why you in?" She eyes me up and down.

I pick up my remote and click off my TV before responding. I lift up my left arm slightly, "I got shot."

She raises her eyebrows, "Are you a con or something?"

I laugh and shake my head, "No, they hire me to catch 'em though. Emma Swan, bail bondswoman." I wave my hand slightly.

"Well crap. Cause if you was a convict, boy would I have a story to tell the girls at Bingo." Go figure. She continues on, "Not that I'm not used to convicts. I used to live next to one in Queens; some drug dealer I think. He and his girlfriend used to get in fights all the time in the middle of the night. I never complained though; it was better than my soaps."

I laugh again and this seems to please Barbara. Her eyes light up and she continues talking. She's quite the entertainer; you can tell she likes attention. I listen as she tells me stories of life in New York and of her best friend Lucy, who is a total gossip from what I can figure. Before I know it, a nurse comes in to give me some pain meds. It's already 5? I take my stuff and look over at Barbara who is clicking on her TV. I frown for a minute, I had been enjoying her stories, but she's already flipping to the news.

As I go to lay down, maybe to take a nap, and I realize that I don't mind the noise as much as I thought I had. It gives me something to grip onto as I think. I think about her stories of New York; it didn't sound too bad. It actually sounded appealing. Getting lost in the crowd, a new adventure everyday, plenty of convicts to catch probably. It was time for me to move soon anyways. But what was holding me back? A niggling in the back of my brain that didn't want me to go. But I already know why. _Her._ Damn that woman and her grip on my heart.

**Reviews are always welcome!**


	2. Chapter 2

"Mom." I hear the whisper close to my ear. I keep my eyes closed though because I just feel too tired. I hear it again, "Mom!" I ignore it. "Mom!" This time it's not as quiet. I still pretend to be sleeping until I hear a loud, "Hey lady!"

I reluctantly open my eyes and see Henry looking over towards Barbara, who had just shouted over her TV program. And that thing was loud. So she was louder. I chuckle at Henry's expression which resembles a fish with its mouth agape. He is no doubt surprised that the elderly woman could produce such a loud noise, but I had assumed she had a set of lungs from the moment I saw her. Probably because of the Streisand resemblance.

He looks back at me and waits a second before smiling. I stretch out my arms and beckon to him. He leans down to hug me and I squeeze him tightly before letting him go. He sits in the chair next to my bed and looks around my room.

"Pretty lame, huh?" I ask him.

He nods and looks around, "Very dull. So, how have you been?"

"Okay," I reply lamely. He had already known the entire situation; I had called him once I was put in, but I told him not to worry. He had dogged me about it and it was as though he was the parent in the situation. I remember calling him "Mom" on several occasions. We would both laugh and it seemed to help break down the worry in him a little.

"What've you been doing to entertain yourself?"

I think a moment before replying, "Thinking."

"About…?" He trails off.

"Moving."

He gives me a quizzical look as if to ask to continue.

"I think it's time to pack up the show and find a new place."

It wasn't as if he didn't know that I wouldn't stay in Boston forever. He nods and swallows, "Any location ideas?"

I shrug, "I don't really know. I'm just thinking about it I guess."

"You'd visit Storybrooke often, right? I mean, Ms. Blanchard and Ruby would kill you if you didn't; I'm still surprised they haven't dragged you back yet."

I laugh, "Oh I know. I still get calls from Mary Margaret every other day asking me to re-consider and every time I get on Facebook I have a couple new messages from Ruby."

But I knew I couldn't go back unless things were fixed with _her._ The two times I had visited after the break-up, the tension in the air could've been cut with a knife. Everyone in town knew of our split and almost walked differently, stepping carefully around me. Of course I had purposefully avoided Regina, but if I lived there full time I couldn't completely ignore her; the town was tiny.

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I'll admit, I was a little disappointed that she hadn't visited me in the hospital, but oh well. What was I expecting? For her to come and kiss my boo-boo? I mentally shake myself and continue to get dressed.

Lenny wouldn't let me take any cases until the doc said it was okay, but I was still supposed to rest for a few days anyways. I pull on my shirt and grind my teeth as my hurt arm tenses. The bullet had scraped by, nicking me and barely staying in my arm at all, but that didn't stop it from hurting.

I finish getting dressed and walk out to my kitchen, my stomach grumbling. I look around before deciding on a bowl of cereal. I open my cupboard and look at the sparseness of it. Less that half a box of Fruity Pebbles and some stale Cheerios. I pour myself a bowl of the fruity stuff and go to my fridge to grab some milk. The fridge clicks open, but upon further investigation I find that I don't have any milk. I look back at the cereal that I had pre-poured and groan. I'd definitely have to go grocery shopping later. I shut the fridge and grab a spoon. I guess I'd be eating dry cereal today.

I sit at the table and shovel some cereal in. It sticks in my mouth but I choke it down anyways. I look around at the dull apartment. Though I'd lived here a year, it was bare and undecorated. I almost felt like I was in the hospital again. White walls. Food that will barely go down. Maybe I should go get some decorations. Ha, who was I kidding; I was a light traveler. And that's what I was, a traveler. A wanderer. A vagabond. There was only one place I could truly call home, but that was most certainly off limits.

My thinking is interrupted by a knocking on my door. I ignore it; Henry had just seen me. There was no one else that really mattered other than him. Well, there was _her, _but it was far too early for her to visit. I'd gotten a visit not too long ago it seemed. The person raps on the door again. Maybe it was her.. I stop myself from getting up. Who cares? So what if it was her? Who says I want to see her? I guess I was just still mad that she hadn't visited me in the hospital. The rapping is incessant. I continue to ignore it for another minute more. Finally it stops. I'm surprised that I couldn't see dents in my door from their knuckles.

I bring my spoon down but it scrapes against the bottom of the bowl. Had I really eaten that fast? I put my bowl in the sink along with my spoon. I swallow and find that the cereal has made my mouth completely dry. I drink a small glass of orange juice and it goes down smoothly, soothing my scratchy throat.

I think a minute about what I should do, considering I didn't have to go to work. On most off days I would sleep, but considering I had rested for the past week, I don't think I could handle laying down. Well, I guess I needed to grab some groceries. I snag my red leather jacket off the back of a chair and a black hat. As I zip up my jacket I hear more knocking on my door. I groan. Are you serious? This was starting to get annoying.

I put my hat on and fix my hair as I walk to the door. I don't think to look out the peephole, because I am seriously about to give this person a piece of my mind. I open the door quickly, "Okay, dude. What do you-" My sentence cuts off as I notice who stands at my door. Her hair is slightly astray, but other than that she looks as regal as ever. She looks at my jacket and cap but finally meets my eye, "Are you going somewhere?"

Was that worry in her voice? Just a hint of it taints her speech. Her voice sounds so nice to my ears. It fills a small gap in my heart that I hadn't realized was there.

I search for words for a second, "Uh- I was.." she looks away, "but it can wait."

"I want to talk."

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We don't speak. We hardly even look at each other as she sits on my small couch while I sit on the small chair adjacent to the her. She looks around the apartment, as if just realizing that it wasn't very decorated. We sit in silence for the longest time. She eventually makes a comment about my arm, but that conversation dies quickly.

After a few quite moments she looks up at me, "Ms. Swan.."

I raise my eyebrows, "Are we really back to the formal titles, Regina?"

She slightly shakes her head and continues, "Emma… I don't think we can continue this arrangement."

I look at the floor.

"It's not healthy, for either of us. It'll just hold us back in making… new relationships."

I swallow thickly, "Okay." My eyes are still locked on the carpet because I really can't face her while I feel like this. I feel so broken. It was like she was finalizing our split. At least I used to be able to see her, but now? I.. I couldn't anymore. And that broke me inside. I felt like my heart had just cracked.

"Emma. Look at me," she whispers.

I ignore her stubbornly while I try to compose myself. Tears don't come to my eyes, because my heart won't even stoop to that level of sadness. This wouldn't even be sadness. It was depressing. It was heart crushing. But then again, a small part of me felt.. free. I mean, she was the reason I had never moved. Never found anybody. I could never do anything because I was still waiting for her. I find a moment to collect myself.

I look up at her, "You're right."

It is now that I realize that Regina isn't as broken as I. She sits up and her face is covered in a mask, devoid of emotion. That stings me. You'd think after all of this, she would be hurting like me, but she is as mayoral as ever. Damn her and her self-composure.

She looks at me blankly and stands, "I have to be going."

I nod and stand from my chair. Her heels are muffled by my cheap carpet as I walk her to the front door. She opens the door and looks back at me, and that's when she lets her walls slip for a moment. I can see the tears in her eyes that she will refuse to shed and the slight slouch in her posture.

I look at her a moment before surging forward. She turns toward me fully and continues to let me see what is really happening through her brown eyes. I stop just short of running into her and she looks at my lips. Her eyes flash to mine.

"One last time?" I whisper.

She nods and takes my face in her hands. She stares at my mouth again before softly running hers against them. When our lips meet I taste something salty, but I soon realize that my eyes have betrayed me and a single tear has gotten passed the barricades. Her lips move against mine for a moment and it is the most beautiful yet heartbreaking kiss I know I will ever experience. When we break apart, she turns and leaves. I close the door behind her and finally let my tears come forward. I continue to drown in them as they consume the rest of my day.

**Reviews are always welcome!**


	3. Chapter 3

I continue to tell Lenny that I'm not feeling too well and manage to lay out of work for the next week, but soon the bareness of my fridge can't be ignored. When I manage to get to the office, Rhonda, Lenny's secretary, looks at me with wide eyes, "You look like you've been hit by a truck."

I look at her plainly, "Thanks."

She looks me up and down again once more, "I'm not trying to be rude or anything, it's just that you look like you haven't slept in a month." _More like a week._ She pushes her thick glasses back up and nose and glances at her computer screen, "Anyways, what can I get you?"

I shake my head and look around, "Something easy. I don't feel too up to chasing a runner. Maybe a pregnant lady? Old grandpa with a cane?" Rhonda chuckles and clicks away at her computer.

"Sorry, fresh out of grandpas and Jimmy just knocked out the pregnant mass murderer," we both laugh a second, imagining buff Jimmy taking down a preggers, "but I do have a lady who stole a ring and didn't show up on her court date."

I knit my eyebrows together, "A ring? Like something shiny from a jewelry store?" Rhonda shakes her head, "No, from some guy. Ex-fiancé I think."

The printer makes some loud clanking noises as she prints out some papers and hands me the manila file, "Name's Betty. Betty Johnson." I glance down at the picture of her. Blonde hair that falls in voluptuous waves to her shoulders, hazel brown eyes. She looks slightly like a stripper with her skimpy shorts and a shirt that makes her prominent breasts stand out even more. Not to mention the fuck-me red lipstick. I thank Rhonda and head out the door into the breezy afternoon.

The sun shines down on me as I slide into my bug. I open the file once more and look at the address, which isn't too far away.

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When I pull onto Concord Avenue, the change in house value is very noticeable; mansions soon start to take over my view and I start to wonder if I'm the right place. Green hedges surround property lines and azalea bushes furnish plastic-looking grass. I look down at my paper again to double check the address. 504 Concord Ave. Yes, this was most definitely the right area.

I look at prim mailboxes sitting at the end of driveways, searching for house numbers. I'm in the low 400's, but soon it jumps up to 500. I scour the mailboxes for the particular 504, but soon I'm passing 516. Had I missed it? Surely I hadn't. I pull into a driveway, get a dirty look from a gardener, and back out to turn around. By my third time around the block I'm about to give up, but I spot a white driveway barely peeking out from behind a thatch of trees. I pull in. This had to be it; it was the only house that didn't have a mailbox.

The driveway leads up to the top of a small hill, where the grandest house of them all sits. The white mansion has pillars that I find reminding me of a slightly less grand version. In Maine. On Miflin street to be exact. I pull up next to a shiny black car that looked like it cost more than I would ever make in a lifetime. If I were a doctor and a lawyer combined. And an anesthesiologist on the weekends. Stupid rich people.

My bug makes a loud clunk as I put it into park and I smile grimly. When I reach the door, I'm surprised to not be greeted by a butler of some sort, but by Betty Johnson herself. She looks slightly surprised to see someone at her house. Her hair is askew and her plush robe is slightly hanging open, revealing her short grey slip. She doesn't seem to notice the robe and takes a second to finally say something, "Can I help you?"

I watch her, looking for any signs or thoughts of running as I say my piece, "I'm from the bail bonds office. You didn't show up on your court date and I'm here to collect you." I leave out my 'gotcha sucker!' smirk that I usually use, because the woman already looks like she's somewhat in a daze. She looks me up and down for a moment before smiling slightly, "Would you lit to come in for a drink first? I'll go, but I would really love a drink first."

I quirk my eyebrows, "I'm not sure that's such a good idea.""Please?" She gives me another small smile and for a moment I can see a glimpse of something in her eyes. She looks slightly detached and broken. I look back at my car and then at her. My super senses don't detect that she's lying about just wanting a drink. Before I know what I'm doing, I slowly nod, "Fine, but I won't have anything."

She sighs with relief and walks into the house. I follow her into the lavish foyer and notice that it smells like vanilla with a hint of cinnamon. The musky smell makes me inhale deeply and smile. It brings back memories of when Mary Margaret would make us hot cocoa on the stove. My heart wrenches a bit, but I ignore it and follow the blonde deeper into the house.

Eventually, after quite a bit of twists and turns, we end up in a sitting room of sorts. She motions for me to sit on one of the leather chairs and I take a seat. She turns and gets a wine glass and a bottle from a cabinet against the wall and looks at me, "You sure you don't want any?" I nod and she sets the glass back down on the table. To my surprise she opens the bottle and takes a large swig. I can almost see the liquid ease its way down her throat and suddenly a drink doesn't sound too bad. As she sits in the chair next to mine, I reach out my hand. She looks at me a moment before handing me the bottle. I take a sip and appreciate that way it settles in my mouth. I hand it back over to her and she doesn't hesitate to take another gulp.

We sit there a moment, feeling the aftertaste of the wine on our tongues before I look at her, "So, what did you do? I mean, I know there was something about a ring, but.."

She glances at me but her gaze soon falls to the bottle in her hand, "Bill was always sweet to me. He would shower me with gifts and the like, but he would've never settled down," she swallows thickly, "he promised we would, but as years passed, I realized that it was going to be later rather than sooner- if at all. I loved him so much, and I know he loved me." I notice how she used a past tense when talking about this 'Bill' and suddenly I feel some worry settle in my stomach.

"I left Bill a month back; it was rash and foolish and I was getting impatient. I took the ring he had always promised me, but never officially gave me," she fingers the supposed ring on her left hand, "it was my last piece of him. I wanted him to love me as much as I loved him," she sighs.

"When I heard that he had passed away- drug overdose- I was so depressed. _I still am depressed_. I would do _anything_ to have him back. I regret every day that I was away from him." She looks around the room, "I just can't shake the feeling that maybe I could've stopped him."

A tear rolls down her cheek and I begin to wonder what to do. Should I pat her on the back? Tell her everything was okay? I almost felt like a therapist in that moment. Was this what a doctor-patient moment was like? I gently rest my hand on her shoulder as she drinks some more wine. After a few minutes of composing herself and wiping her eyes she looks to me, "What about you? What's your life like right now?"

I look at her plainly, "Look, lady. I'm not really into digging deep into my personal life," she sadly looks at me, "but considering you just opened up to me, I guess I'll return the favor."

She waits for me to continue but I take a moment to collect my thoughts, "Well to sum it up, my life really sucks. I live alone, my ex-fiancé broke off our engagement, and I spend my days catching little crooks who have nothing better to do than rob gumball machines and graffiti cars- no offense or anything." I add the last part as she makes a face about the 'crooks' bit.

"Not to sound all 'whoa-is-me' or anything, but you know, sometimes life does suck, and there's nothing we can do about it. We just have to choke down whatever life gives us and do it with a smile, because that's how we move on. We pretend it's all better until eventually we believe our own lies."

She blinks and sets down the wine bottle, "You're right…"

Silence fills the room but soon enough I hear her whisper, "Tell me about him."

I turn and look at her, "Who?"

"Your ex-fiancé."

I become silent and look at my hands. She gives me a sidelong glance, "You don't have to.. I prefer not to say too much about Bill because it brings up memories, so if you would rather not talk about him you don't have to."

How could I talk about Regina? The woman who had ripped out my heart then repaired it just to stomp on it some more? The woman who filled my thoughts and dreams. Who had made life seem livable and then not. Who had made me complete but then snatched herself away. How could I talk about her? But then again, how could I not? She was my muse, my inspiration. She was my conscience and my guide. She was the reason I woke up each morning. I look at Betty a moment before simply stating, "Her name is Regina."

The blonde starts to apologize, but I quickly stop her, "Don't- it's fine." She appears as though she is selecting her words carefully as she continues to speak, "What is she like?"

I chuckle, how could I describe her in words? "She's like.. Everything you'd ever hope for. She's graceful and elegant. She's so intelligent and bright. She knows how to speak well in front of crowds, but once you get her alone she falters at being social," words continue to tumble out of my mouth without my consent. Why am I telling all of this to a stranger? Maybe because she didn't know me. I didn't have to live up to my reputation of being tough. Soon my eyes are tearing up because of these emotions that overflow as I describe every detail of the brunette woman.

I recall how I met her on that chilly night long ago. I pour out how I had asked her out and how I eventually fell in love with the mayor. I told her of our love and then our breakup. Details of the previous year fill the air and soon I am up to our last meeting. When I am finally finished, tears threaten to spill and Betty looks like she's close behind.

A weight is lifted off my shoulders after completing my tale. It feels so nice to finally tell someone- _anyone_- about all of this. I inhale deeply and bat away moisture from my eyes. She produces a tissue from a drawer in a stand next to her chair. I take it with a watery smile and swipe at my eyes. I unsuccessfully try to put my walls up, suddenly feeling insecure and uncomfortable at being so vulnerable in front of her.

Silence encases us as she sips out of the bottle. She offers it to me and I shake my head, "I have to drive." She looks confused for a minute before remembering the reason why I was there in the first pace. She nods and sets the bottle down. As we approach the door she grabs a jacket from her coat rack.

I stop her before she puts it on, "You don't have to come with me if you don't want. I- I know if I was in your position I would rather not be escorted to a police station."

Her blonde curls bounce as she shakes her head, "I might as well go; they'll come for me eventually and I'd prefer going with you than someone else."

I give her a sad smile and continue to walk to the car. We get in and it seems that in mere seconds we're pulling into the station. Before she gets out, she looks at me, "Emma. Can you do me a favor?"

I nod, "Yeah. Of course."

"Go see Regina. Go back to her," I look down, but she continues, "I regret every second I wasn't with Bill. Life will end, and we all need to spend what time we have with the people closest to our heart. I know what love is, Emma. And from what I can tell, you and Regina… you have it." I look at her and nod.

She climbs out of the car and before she leaves, she dips her head in the window, "And Emma? I don't care what she says: Just know that she wants you there. She will always want you there."

**Reviews are always good!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! Sorry for the delay; I've been having some computer problems (still am, actually) but I'm hoping it will all be fixed soon. This chapter is sort of slow, but don't worry, we'll be making some more progress soon!**

I stare blankly at the ceiling of my apartment as I lounge on the couch. Thoughts whirl in my head like a great storm, wreaking havoc on my body. Images of Storybrooke appear, then an image of Henry. I see Regina as she smiles at me. Barbara from the hospital with her wrinkled face is walking towards me. The sensation is odd; to be awake though your body gives you random dreams, like someone flicking through channels on a TV. Some of the images are too fast moving and blurred for me to make out, but suddenly my brain is focused on the image of a gun. I gasp and sit up quickly, groping my arm to feel the healed flesh. I catch my breath for a moment before deciding that I need something to do.

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I walk into the small yet crowded bookshop and look around. Hipsters fill the area, drinking coffee from the little café situated in the corner and a smell of musty books is pungent from where they sit in rows of shelves. I duck behind a group of teenagers though I keep an eye on the gray hoodie that weaves through the crowd. He makes his way towards the back, where the books are, and I slowly trail him, not wanting him to think he's being followed.

My target walks through the aisles some more before finally stopping at one in specific. I try to get a better look at his face, but his hood is concealing him with dark shadows. Hands reach for a book and from where I stand around the corner of his aisle I see that it's a hardbound. He opens and examines it for a moment and I'm about to approach him when suddenly he drops the book and sprints out to the end of the row.

I curse and run after him. As I pass the book I look down and see that it's a book of exerts from Edgar Allen Poe. Right before I'm passed it, my eyes flash back down and catch sight of the words 'The Raven'. So, he was a poetry thug? As I round the corner of the aisle, I look towards the rear of the shop where I see the back door banging closed. I push myself harder towards it and hear shouts when I cut someone off, but I ignore them and continue to run.

The door leads out to an alleyway and I look to my right to see the man running in the distance. I sprint and try to think of something to call out. What was his name again? I huff with frustration when I can't recall it. Suddenly I realize that I can't even remember what he looks like. I pump my legs harder and I am most definitely starting to feel the burn, but I need to catch him. For some unknown reason, I feel the urge to get this one. I once again try to remember what his name is. Manila folders swim in my mind and they seem to taunt me by saying, "Ha, _we _know the name which you seek!"

"Hey!" I shout. The man continues to run and he doesn't seem any closer than when I started. He was keeping the pace up. I pant, but continue to run. All of a sudden, cool metal is in my hand. I look down and see a gun. What the hell? That wasn't even mine. I watch in horror as my hands raise and aim the gun ahead. I scream out of terror; I wasn't doing that! Those were not my actions. I feel my fingers squeeze the trigger and I loud boom fills the alley. The man falls face foreword as my bullet hits him square in the back. I cry out and continue to run to him.

Blood seeps out of his back and I quickly kneel down to him as soon as I catch up. I raise my hand to my mouth to try and cover the cry of what I had done, but I hear a grunt. I quickly grab him by the shoulders and proceed to try and flip him on to his back. With another grunt, he rolls slowly rolls over. I push the hood from his face and scream. Tears leak from my eyes as I look at the face. Brown orbs of eyes and red lips stare me down and I cover my mouth again. I cover my mouth because it isn't a man; it's a woman. And this isn't any woman. It's Regina.

She tries to smile up at me, but as soon as she opens her mouth I see that her teeth are scarlet with blood. It drips out of the corner of her mouth and rolls down her cheek. The drop hangs onto her jaw a moment before finally dripping down into her hair. Her glassy eyes that have been looking at me start to roll forward and become glassy. Her labored breaths are now silent as her chest stops moving. This time when I scream, it seems to shake the earth.

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I wake with a scream and my body shoots up. Sweat drips down my forehead and I look around with terror. It takes me a moment to realize that I'm in my living room, laying on the couch still. The light is dim and I look out the window to where the sun is just starting to set. I blink a couple times before my breathing has slowed. _It was all a dream. It was all a dream. _I find myself chanting it in my head until I am shaking. It had felt so real, it was scary how real it had all felt. I clench my hands to rid the weight of a gun from them.

Of course it was all a dream; I would never kill someone. Sure, I'd knock 'em around a bit and give them a few scars, but never murder. I stand up from the couch and go to my kitchen to get some water. As I swallow I notice that my throat feels raw; I must've been screaming in my sleep.

After I drink some more I find myself in the shower, trying to wash away the sweat that had accumulated on my body. The water seems to have a calming effect and I find that my earlier terror has faded, leaving me with a peace of sorts. I ponder about my dream. I had… killed Regina. What did that even mean? I would never want to kill her. Hell, I'd probably kill myself before I'd kill her; how could I live in a body whose soul was incomplete?

I sit down and let the cool water run over me. What should I do? I needed to move. This apartment was starting to feel like a home. It was getting stuffy and smothering. Now the real question was, where to? I think of Barbara's New York, but before I know it, I'm thinking of Storybrooke. I could move back in with Mary Margaret. My job would probably be there for me. I had been gone a year and Ruby had told me countless times that Sidney Glass was the worst sheriff imaginable. I chuckle, leave it to Regina to give him the job.

I sit and think until the water in my shower is freezing cold, and soon I reluctantly get out. I wrap myself in a towel and just as I enter my bedroom my phone rings. I look at the caller ID: Henry. I smile and answer, "Hey, kid."

"Hey!"

"What's up?" I hear silence for a moment before he speaks, "Were you serious when you said you were moving?"

I frown, "Why?" I can almost hear him fidgeting on the other end of the line, "I… I wanted to know if you'd come back to Storybrooke."

I sigh, "Kid, you kno—"

He interrupts me, "Just for the summer," I'm about to say something but he quickly continues, "I'll be there this summer and I think it'd be much easier to see you if I didn't have to drive all the way to Boston. Plus, I heard Ms. Blanchard is looking for a roommate _and_ Sidney Glass just quit his job."

My brow creases, "Why did Sidney quit?"

Henry's shrug is audible, "Something about he couldn't handle blood? All I know is that Mrs. Franklin- that old lady who lives next to Marco- apparently fell and busted her knee wide open and when she called Sidney and he came, he fainted when he saw the blood. I bet he quit so he wouldn't get humiliated by being fired."

We chuckle for a minute, imagining Sidney fainting. The line is silent for a minute, "I don't know, kid."

"Please think about it, Emma."

I blink at the use of my name, he hadn't called me that in the longest time. It reminds me of the first few years I had moved to Storybrooke. I sigh, "I'll think about it."

I can hear the smile when he tells me goodbye. "I love you too Henry- have a good night. Bye."

I click the 'end' button and watch as my screen goes to the back round. I look at the apple tree a moment more before making the screen blank.

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I promised Henry I'd think about it. And I did. I thought and thought and thought until the only thing I could think about was how my brains were about to explode.

I pick up my phone and type in the number from memory.

"Hey, I heard you're looking for a roommate."

I was only doing it for Henry; this has nothing to do with her.

Besides, it was only for the summer, right?

**Reviews make me smile!(:**


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay guys, I just wanted to thank you for all of the follows, favorites, and reviews. They make me really happy and they motivate me to write as fast as I can. If you've been to my profile, you'll see that I mentioned my computer being broken. Sadly, it's still getting fixed, so the updates will continue to be a little random and slow. But bear with me, I swear as soon as it's fixed I'll update as much as possible. Thank you again!**

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I shudder as I cross the Storybrooke town line. Something I can't quite place settles around me, but it is a welcome feeling. It feels like… home. But for the first time in a while, it doesn't frighten me. It's not like the smothering atmosphere my apartment had become; it was like waking up to your grandmother's homemade cookies. Not that I would know what that was like- but I'd watched enough sit-coms throughout my foster care days to know what it was supposed to feel like.

I drive for a couple more minutes before I finally see some small buildings on the outskirts of town. They're just a couple of warehouses, but it relieves me to finally see some sign of life. Workers load boats onto trailers and start to head to the docks for the day. I smile as I watch a younger boy help a man tie things down. The boy reminds me of Henry when he was younger; he has shaggy brown hair and wears a dark hoodie.

I drive a few more miles and I start to see houses. People walking their dogs stop and look at my car as if trying to remember where it's from and why they recognize it. I get a few waves from pedestrians and I smile and nod at them. I pass Granny's and see Ruby setting out the 'open' sign. She looks at my car and her jaw drops before she's grinning ear to ear. I know I can expect a visit from her later.

I pull up to Mary Margaret's building and open my car door, but before I can even get out I hear the building door being thrown open. I stand up and a flurry of light green is surrounding me. I feel the teacher's arms around me and I smile, "Hey, Mary Margaret."

She pulls back and puts both of her hand on my face, "Emma! I've missed you so much." Her smile is spread across her face and I notice that her hair is slightly longer than the last time I saw her. But other than that, she looks exactly the same as when I saw her last.

"I've missed you too," I smile back at her before looking towards my trunk where my possessions sat. We walk around the car and I open the trunk. The meager 3 boxes stare up at us. "I see you still travel lightly."

I look over at the brunette, "Yeah."

Mary Margaret picks up a box and heads toward the building. I snag the other two and stack them on top of one another and trudge up the stairs. I walk up to my old room and find my roommate setting the box next to the bed. I set my stack next to it with a grunt.

Mary Margaret looks back at me, "Is this it?" I start to nod before correcting myself, "Actually, there's one more thing."

"I'll help you go get it." She starts to walk to the door but I stop her, "I can get it; it's nothing big." She nods and walks downstairs and into the kitchen.

I make my way to the bug and close the trunk. I open the driver side door and reach underneath the seat. My hand scrapes against cardboard and I pull out the small shoebox. I shut the door and lock it before jogging back up to the flat.

When I finally get to my room I shut the door and sprawl out on the bed, shoebox in hand. I trace the outside edge of the worn cardboard before finally opening it. I tenderly pull out an object. It's a postcard from Tallahassee. I remember buying the cheap 99 cent thing at a gas station when I first moved there, only to realize that I had no one to send it to. I gingerly run my fingers along the picture of a palm tree.

I set it back in the box and pull out another object. This time it's sock from when I was little. It wasn't actually my sock; I had worn it at one of the homes that I was rather fond of. When it was time to move I wanted something to remember it by. I smuggled out one of the socks I had worn regularly and kept it for the longest time. I finger the yellow lace frills at the top. It easily fits in my hand and I begin to wonder how old I was when I took this little treasure of mine. Five or six most likely. In my little juvenile eyes, it was the prettiest thing I had ever worn. I set this in the box as well.

I rummage through the little knick-knacks and things of my past until I find what I'm looking for. I pull out the little gold circlet and grip it in my fist. Before I left, Regina had given me her engagement ring. For the longest time I pondered what to do with it. For a while I had kept it in my pocket. When I truly missed her, I'd allow myself to wear it. Finally, it ended up in the box with all of my other precious possessions. Instead of placing it back in the box with the other things, I put it in my pocket.

I stand up from the bed and put the lid back on my box. I hold the cardboard close to my chest. Is this really all I was? A box full of little bobbles and trinkets? I slide the cardboard underneath my bed and start downstairs. I find Mary Margaret in the kitchen.

She looks at me, "Have you had any breakfast?"

I shake my head, "I was thinking maybe we could go to Granny's."

Mary Margaret nods, "That sounds perfect!"

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The bell above the diner door dings as we enter Granny's and I smile at the familiar sound. I see Ruby talking to one of the very few customers. When she's done, she turns towards the door to see who's entered. She smiles wildly and runs up to me, "Emma!"

She bear hugs me and I barely manage to stay standing up, "Hey, Rubes!"

When she finally lets me go we walk over to one of the booths. Mary Margaret sits opposite of me and Ruby looks around cautiously as if searching for Granny before quickly sitting down next to me, "So, what's up?"

I shake my head, "Nothing much, just visiting for a little bit."

She grins, "How long are you staying?"

My eyes flash to Mary Margaret before I answer, "I'm not quite sure." Mary Margaret gives me the look that she knows that I'd rather keep it on the down-low about how long I was staying.

"Ruby!" All of our heads snap where the sound originated: behind the counter. Granny stands with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face, "Ruby, what do you think you're doing?"

Ruby looked at us a moment with an apologetic smile before flouncing over to the counter where Granny started to scold her. I look at Mary Margaret who is chuckling to herself. I look back over at Ruby and notice that she too looks exactly the same as the last time I saw her. She should've look like she was in her thirties, but she looked like she was still in her early twenties… I frown and look back over at Mary Margaret.

It was quite odd that no one seemed to have aged, wasn't it? I shake my head, thinking I must be crazy. Mary Margaret frowns, "What's wrong?"

I knit my eyebrows together, "Mary Margaret, how old are you?"

She acts as though she's about to say something but then stops, "Well… quite frankly I can't remember." She looks puzzled for a moment before picking up the menu and browsing through her breakfast options, as if that queer moment hadn't just happened.

I scrunch my nose, "Don't you just find that the least bit strange? That you can't remember your age?"

She shrugs nonchalantly, "Eh, doesn't everyone forget it at some time or another?"

No. No, they don't. I knew for a fact that I was 36. Sure, it may take some people a while to think about it, but eventually they were supposed to remember, right? I shrug it off and pick up my menu as well.

Soon enough Ruby is approaching our table, "What can I get you ladies?"

"Some of that tea that you made me the other day, please," Mary Margaret says happily.

I glance at the menu again, which is exactly the same as it was when I first moved to Storybrooke, "How about some strawberry lemonade?"

Ruby marks it down on her little pad of paper and while she's standing there I'm tempted to ask her how old she is, but that's crazy right? I mean, it's probably just Mary Margaret being crazy. We both set down our menus, having decided what we wanted. Ruby goes ahead and takes our food orders before walking away.

I look over at Mary Margaret, "So… how are things with David?"

Her face lights up at the mention of his name, "He's good; we went on a date the other day."

I smile. I am truly happy for her, but sometimes it's bittersweet knowing someone who has happiness while your happiness has left you a long while back.

Her smile starts to drop, "Does… does Regina know you're here?"

My smile vanishes too, "I haven't told her. Maybe someone else has, but I haven't told her, no." I look at my hands and fiddle with them a moment.

"Are you going to try to get your Sheriff position back?"

I think a minute. I mean, that was the job I had thought I was going to use while I was here, but wouldn't that be unfair to the city? Giving them a Sheriff who knew she was going to leave in a few months? Being Sheriff was quite a permanent job.

I shrug, "I don't know. I figure if anything maybe I can just fill in as a sub while they find a permanent replacement?"

At this Mary Margaret frowns, "I wish you'd stay here, Emma."

I'm scared by that comment, but I'm saved from replying as our food arrives.

But the fear stays, because somewhere deep inside, some part of me wishes I would stay too.

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**I absolutely adore my reviewers! (well, I adore and love all of you guys, but my reviewers make me super happy) So, if you wanna join the club just drop a review and make myevilregal one happy author! (:**


	6. Chapter 6

**Yay! I found some time to push this baby out on someone else's computer (wow, that sounded weird). I figured I might as well give you the quick one-day update as an apology for my slowness in the past. Thank you again for all of the people who read, review, favorite, and follow. You guys are the ones who make me want to keep writing. And I am loving the questions in the review area. I'm glad that this story is making your brain turn. A good question I saw was 'Is the curse in this story?' That is most certainly a great question and we will find out eventually. (; **

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The next few days I stay at the flat mostly. I tell myself that I'm just waiting for Henry to finish up his last few days at college so we can do things together, but deep inside I know that I'm just afraid that I'll run into Regina. I know it is inevitable, but still I find myself making excuses to be a homebody.

It isn't until Mary Margaret gets sick and needs me to run to the store to get some more medicine that I finally leave. I pull on my boots and look over my shoulder to where the teacher is lying on the couch buried within a mountain of blankets. The Hallmark channel flashes bright on the T.V. and I sigh. This woman could not get enough of Hallmark.

"Alrighty, I guess I'm on my way."

She mumbles something incoherent, but I think I hear a goodbye somewhere within the jumble, so I walk out the door.

The drive to the little drug store down the street is over quickly and before I know it, I've already parked my car and am walking inside. As soon as I enter, I scan the store to see if I know any of the patrons. Some random citizens that I'd seen before are sparsely spread throughout the aisles, but I'd never really had a true conversation with any of them.

I blink with relief and start to head to the cough/flu medication. I take in the bright boxes that claim to have cures and such. The certain brand that Mary Margaret had suggested is on the top shelf and I grab a random one before quickly placing it back. What flavor should I get? Grape or cherry? Both were wretched and tasted nothing like the fruit that they depicted, but for some reason I always thought that cherry flavored medicine worked better. Maybe it was because the red liquid was so iconic yet feared… Still, it tasted horrible. I shrug and grab both before making my way to the register.

The woman who stands behind the counter is quite thin, but she has a young, kind face. She looks at my boxes, "Will that be all?" I nod and she runs the items across the scanner.

"Well, I do hope whomever you're buying these for feels a whole lot better," she says with a smile.

I falter for a second; she actually seemed like she genuinely hoped they felt better. Not the 'I hope you feel better' your boss gives you after you call in sick, but the 'I hope you feel better' you give a little kid who just face-planted on concrete.

I smile, "Thanks."

She nods, "And just remember, a spoon full of sugar makes the medicine go down." As I grab the bag, the bell on the door sounds a nice ding. I turn and stop dead in my tracks when I see the person who has entered. Her hair is slightly windblown and it makes her look like she's from some dream. She stares at me and her mouth hangs slightly open. She blinks at me with wide eyes, like she's trying to clear her vision, "Ms. Swan?" Her voice is low and quiet but I know that every single person in the store has heard this confrontation.

I look around at the store's occupants who have all turned to direct their attention to us before looking back to her. I glance down at my bag before quickly scurrying past her and out the door, leaving a shell-shocked Regina behind.

It must have been fate. Cruel, cruel fate. I sit on the couch next to Mary Margaret though she protests that I'll get sick. Oh well, let me get sick. We watch the Hallmark Channel for about an hour until a knock sounds on the door. Mary Margaret looks at me with a quirked eyebrow, "I wonder who that could be…"

I have a guess, but I am not ready for this yet. What would I say?

She stands up to go and answer the door but I stop her, "Wait, let me… go to my room."

The teacher stops and looks at me with a confused expression, "What?"

I look at her with a grimace, "Just… I'm not home, okay?" I stand up from the couch and jog upstairs. Just as I crack my door I hear Mary Margaret answer downstairs.

"Hello, Madame Mayor."

There's quiet for a moment before I hear, "No, Emma isn't here."

Suddenly I hear the teacher shouting protests and I can tell Regina has barged in. I hear her coming up the stairs toward my room and Mary Margaret close behind shouting, "You have no right to just come into my home!"

I stand right next to the doorframe just in time as it swings open and conceals me. I hide behind it, but through the crack, where the door hinges are, I see the back of the mayor. She suddenly stops and looks around the room and I long to see what her expression is.

"What has gotten into you, Regina?" Mary Margaret asks angrily.

I see Regina shake her head, "I- I don't know." Her voice is low and sounds almost… disappointed. But that can't be right, can it?

She slowly turns and for a second I can see the blank expression on her face. She exits the room and the teacher follows. I stay behind the door a couple minutes more until I hear the soft padding of Mary Margaret coming up the stairs.

She walks in and shuts the door, revealing me scrunched up against the wall, "Mind explaining what that was about?"

I move from the wall and go sit on my bed. The brunette looks at me expectantly.

"I sort of ran into Regina when I went to get you some meds…"

Her eyes widen and she motions with her hands for me to continue, "And...?"

"And I sort of didn't say anything. I just stood there a minute before bolting," I look down at my hands, feeling guilty.

The teacher sighs and comes to sit next to me, "Oh, Emma. What are we going to do with you?" I chuckle and we're quiet for some time until she looks at me.

"She really seemed determined to see you. She did barrel me over at the door, after all."

I nod as she continues, "Maybe you should go see her?"

I stop nodding when she says that bit, "Well, I guess I do sort of need a job… I'll go see her tomorrow about filling in at the Sheriff's station."

Suddenly I'm quite nervous about tomorrow. She nods before standing up, "Well, I'm going to go back to my movies…"

"You know, if you didn't have to go and get yourself sick, I would've never had to go get you medicine and we wouldn't have this problem, now would we?" I say sarcastically.

"Just for that remark, I think I'll go eat the last bear claw," she quips.

My mouth drops in horror, "You wouldn't!"

She raises an eyebrow, "But wouldn't I?" She quickly turns and runs downstairs. I hop off the bed and chase after her, "DON'T YOU TOUCH MY DOUGHNUT!"

The town hall looks down imposingly on me as I stride towards it with determination. Deep down inside I wanted to run away, but I couldn't. I mean, I'd have to do this at one time or another, right?

I look at my outfit self-consciously. I wore a loose green button-up top that I left slightly undone at the top. My legs were clad in simple skinny jeans and some brown boots. It's not like I had dressed up for the occasion… though I _had_ checked the mirror quite a few times before I had left the flat.

I stride into the main office and approach Regina's secretary, Whitney. Whitney was a middle-aged woman who had light-brown hair which fell down to her shoulders. Wire-rimmed glasses sat on top of her perky little nose. She smiles at me, "Hi, Emma!" I give her a small smile back and lean down a little, "Is Regina here?"

She nods and looks at her computer, "Yep. She doesn't have an appointment until 2:30. Do you want me to make you an appointment or..?" she trails off.

"I was actually hoping I could just have a super quick walk in."

She frowns and looks at me with a troubled expression, "You know she really doesn't like it when people just-"

I walk past the desk and ignore the secretary's protests until I reach Regina's door. I stop and try to calm down my heart a bit and I find myself fixing my hair. Finally I take a deep breath and open the door.

Regina sits at her desk in a dark red blazer, which matches her lipstick. Her lips are pursed as she looks at her computer screen, "What do you-" Her sentence cuts off as she finally glances up at me. She looks me over as I slowly walk in and shut the door behind me.

I walk up to her desk and sit in one of the client chairs. At that moment Whitney walks in, looking quite flustered, "I am so sorry Madame Mayor. She just-"

Regina holds up a hand to silence the babbling woman, "Leave us."

The lady bows her head as if shamed and closes the door. We sit in silence for a good spell before Regina finally looks at me, "Ms. Swan, why the hell are you here?"

Her voice is calm and slow, like someone who is just tired of everything.

I swallow before simply stating, "Henry."

"Ah, yes. The son you left behind."

My blood boils, but I know it won't do any good to scream at the woman before me.

"But why are you _here_? As in _my office_?"

"I wanted to know if that Sheriff's position is open."

Regina's head snaps towards me with surprise, "You- you plan on staying?"

What that hope in her voice? She looked genuinely surprised. She takes a moment to collect her thoughts and calm down a moment before she quickly lies, "We already have quite a fine Sheriff if I do say so myself."

I roll my eyes, "Cut the crap, Regina. I already know that Sydney quit a couple months ago."

"Oh, yes. That did happen, didn't it?" She raises her eyebrows as if legitimately not expecting me to know that little tidbit of information, "well, I'll have Whitney send you the paperwork I guess. And you'll have to take a test of course-"

I groan, "Are you serious? I was Sheriff for almost ten years. I'm sure you still have all of that information locked up somewhere or the other."

She gets serious at this and simply states, "People change, Ms. Swan."

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**Reviews are better than anything! Any theories on what might happen? Maybe some more mind-boggling questions? Drop a review.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys! I am so sorry for the wait. I know, I know, I'm terrible. But I just got a new computer, so hopefully updates will be a lot faster. **

**Disclaimer: I -sadly- don't own Once Upon a Time... ):**

I look at the stack of papers that lies before me and groan. Regina must have sent over every possible paper she could think of. I flip to the next page and sign my name for what seems like the umpteenth time. It was almost like it wasn't worth it. When Graham had died, it seemed as though the position seamlessly drifted over to me along with a couple of papers to fill out. I let out a frustrated noise as I see an extended response question: Why would you be appropriate for this position?

I'm tempted to write 'Because I was this position for 10 years!' But I don't. I'm tempted to burn the forms and apply at Granny's; I'm sure they wouldn't need to know my past 5 jobs. But I don't. I grit my teeth and begin to make up some crap about how I believe in criminal justice.

It's about an hour later when Mary Margaret walks in. She looks at my distressed state and quirks her eyebrows, "Having a rough time?"

I sigh, "You have no idea. It feels like I've been doing paperwork all day." She walks closer and looks at the current form I'm filling out. She laughs and looks back up at me, "Yes, I do believe you must have been doing paperwork all day considering you just signed your name Amma Swen."

I look at the signature and groan. Stupid non-erasable pen. I look up at her with tired eyes, "Do you happen to have any white-out?" She thinks a moment before shaking her head, "Actually, I left it at the school. Maybe you could run to the store? I think a break would be good for you anyway."

I nod and stand, "Yeah, I guess I'll be back in a minute." She nods and I walk out the door with my jacket in hand. The gust of wind that hits me as I walk out the door is refreshing and I let out a breath of relaxation, glad to be out of the stuffy apartment.

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It's about a week later when I receive a call from Regina's secretary saying that I had gotten the Sheriff's position. I do a sarcastic impression of being surprised, but it isn't two seconds later that my feigned happiness is burned out. I listen as Whitney congratulates me on my position but suddenly she's saying something different, "So 2 o'clock, then?"

"For what?"

"Your meeting with the mayor. Will 2 o'clock tomorrow be an okay time for you?"

My eyes widen as I realize that I had totally zoned out during our conversation, "Oh, yeah. That will be fine."

We say a quick goodbye and she hangs up, leaving me with thoughts of tomorrow. We'd probably go over the pay and hours and such, but suddenly I'm nervous. I mentally shake myself. I shouldn't be nervous. I mean, it was just a simple meeting with Regina, right?

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I stride into the building with a stone look, refusing to let any emotion show through; I won't let them see how merely being in the same building as Regina has gotten me so shaken. I sit in the waiting room only a moment or so when Whitney looks up and smiles, "You can head on back."

I stand and walk towards the hallway, giving Whitney one last glance. She nods at me encouragingly and I mentally shake myself; I don't need help from anyone. I walk back and place a mask on my face, a mask of determination. I stride as though I have the greatest importance in the world, but as I approach the door I can tell my posture slowly sags and my mouth turns downward a bit.

I enter the decorated office and look to where Regina sits behind her desk. She doesn't look away from her paperwork, but I can tell she knows that I'm in the room.

"Well Ms. Swan, I'm glad to see that you can follow the rules for once and wait your turn until you're to come in."

I roll my eyes and sit in one of the chairs in front of her desk, "Yes, Madame Mayor, because I had _such_ a long wait."

I wait for some snappy remark back, but I am greeted with silence as she continues on with her work. She scans over a page. Then another. Then another. I tap my foot impatiently but I don't say anything, not wanting to succumb to her petty little waiting game.

I look at her clock on the wall and watch as 10 minutes go by before I finally break, "For a woman who wastes no time with things, you sure do seem to be a procrastinator."

She doesn't even bother to spare me a glance as she replies, "I'm not procrastinating, dear. I'm merely prioritizing. And right now, these papers are much important than you."

And that's when I snap. I grab the papers off of her desk quickly and hold them close to my chest. This finally gets her attention and at last looks up at me, "Put those back this instant!"

"I don't think so. You called me in here, and I will not be ignored, Regina."

"Ms. Swan, I suggest you'd better not fool around with me. Hand them back now, or else-"

I quirk and eyebrow at her and give her a smug smirk, "Or else what? You'll call the police? Ooh, that wouldn't work would it?" I finish it with a sarcastic look of sympathy. "So, are you actually going to speak to me now? Or should I just leave?"

She looks incredulous, "I can't believe you have the audacity to come into my office and-"

Some switch turns in me and I can feel myself explode.

"Me?! Come into your office?! Who has sat here for the past 10 minutes completely ignoring me and wasting _my_ time? You're the one who wanted me in here!"

I throw the papers I had been clutching back onto her desk and stand, "If you didn't want me here, why have me come? I'm sure you could just send over the info. And you really want to talk about audacity? Audacity is breaking up with someone- totally unexpectedly- and not even bothering to tell them why. And then coming to their doorstep to screw them and then drop them like a two-cent whore. That's audacity."

She looks at me with wide eyes and I can tell she's shocked that I brought that up. Her eyes swim with emotions and for once she doesn't have a snarky retort.

"Just fax me the information," I spin on my heel and walk out the door. I think I hear a "Ms. Swan, wait-" but I slam the door behind me, blocking out any more sound.

Then again, who knows? It could've been my imagination.

I blow past Whitney's desk and don't even bother to look at her. By the time I get to my bug, angry tears threaten to spill over and I don't even care as they burn paths down my skin. But she doesn't deserve my tears and my emotions and I kick myself for even letting her get to me.

By the time I'm halfway to Mary Margaret's flat, my phone rings. I look down and see that it's the Mayor's secretary. I let it ring and try to ignore the constant noise. Soon enough it dies off and I take a deep breath. I refuse to let her get to me.

It isn't a second later when the phone goes off again. I grind my teeth together and pick it up. "What?" I snap.

"The Mayor would really would appreciate it if you would return to her office," Whitney says in a small voice. I can tell I've startled her with my abrupt answer.

"I would appreciate it if the Mayor wasn't such a bitch," I retort and then add, "And you can tell her that I said that. I don't care."

"Please, come back. If you'd like me to, I can reschedule you for tomorrow?"

I left out a sarcastic laugh, "Why would I return to that witch's den? How about you just fax over the information and tell Regina that she's an evil witch for me? How does that sound?"

"Well I-" I click a button and end the call, cutting of Whitney mid-sentence. I didn't want to even think about that woman. I will get over her and her petty self if it is the last thing I do.

MYEVILREGAL MYEVILREGAL MYEVILREGAL

The bell over Granny's door rings out as I enter the diner. People look up from their lunches and watch as I slowly walk in. I glance around the room a moment before I head towards the back corner. I slide myself into a booth and look to see Ruby flouncing over to me.

"Hey Emma! Do you know what you're getting?"

"Uh..." I glance down at the menu for a second, "How about a… cheeseburger with fries and a Coke, please?"

She nods and writes down the order on her little pad of paper before looking up with a smile. She checks to make sure Granny is nowhere in sight before leaning down to whisper to me, "Hey, a couple of friends and I are having a girl's night tonight. Wanna come?" She ends with a playful smirk.

I think a moment before returning the smile, "Sure."

I needed to let loose a bit anyway. I knew I'd have fun. She struts away saying something about texting me with the details later and I smile. I had missed the red-streaked brunette and her bubbly personality.

MYEVILREGAL MYEVILREGAL MYEVILREGAL

I enter the bar and immediately my senses are overflowing. Music pumps through a heavy sound system and the dim lighting is accentuated with neon lights all over the walls and ceiling. All of the white on the large dance area glows like fireflies under black lights. I look over to where Ruby stands beside me, "I never knew this was here!" I have to shout over the large crowd's noise for her to hear me.

She smiles and her white teeth glow bright against her dimly lit face, "It's new! Just opened last weekend!"

I nod and look around the room, which is mostly filled with people who look to be in their early 20's grinding up against each other. The lighting and the atmosphere remind me of the movie Tron, and I smile. It was actually really cool.

We walk over to the bar and I sit on one of the neon stools. Ruby and her friend Ali sit next to me. Ruby had introduced me to Ali earlier, before we all drove over here. Her striking red hair and bright blue eyes had definitely left an impression.

It isn't 2 minutes later when someone comes up to Ruby and asks her to dance. She looks at us a moment before Ali and I both nod her on. She grins and takes the hand that was offered to her. Ali and I both sit in silence before she moves seats over to where Ruby had been sitting in between us.

The bartender looks at us now and asks us what we'd like. Ali orders some new drink that I'd never heard of. When the man looks at me, I shrug, "The same thing as her." He nods and starts pouring the drinks.

A few moments later he hands us two aqua colored concoctions in martini glasses. As Ali picks up her drink I notice all of the blue on her. Of course her hair was bright red- it almost looked like it came from a bottle, but there was also a natural look to it. Her blouse had a blue that highlighted her eyes and her heels were an aqua shade. Not to mention her skinny jeans had accents of teal on them. You'd think she'd be drowned out by the color, but surprisingly it just accentuated her natural beauty.

I smile at her and sniff my drink before taking a sip. I can't quite figure out the taste, but it's fruity and refreshing. I smile and look around the club until I find Ruby dancing with some guy. She seems to be enjoying herself and I smile.

As I continue to scan the crowd, I notice that all of the people are in their early twenties and suddenly I feel out of place. I peer over at Ali who is also looking around and I clear my throat, "I think I'm going to have to ditch. This isn't really my sort of place."

Her eyes go big, "No, you can't leave." And I see that she's scared to be alone. I can tell she's not like Ruby- she's not outgoing. I can picture her sitting all alone at the bar for the rest of the night. I settle back into my seat and sigh, "Alright, I'll stay for a bit more."

As we continue to talk, she slowly lets her rigid posture fall and we're talking like we've known each other forever. I smile and I listen and I laugh, but I don't hear the eerie click of a shutter behind us.

**I just want to thank you all for all of the favorites, follows, and reviews! You guys are the ones who make me want to do this. So drop a review and make me one happy writer. Oh! And I have heard some questions about a Regina POV chapter? What are your thoughts? I had never thought of doing one, but I'll definitely think about it if some of you want one.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Okay guys, because it was requested, here is a Regina POV chapter. It's on the shorter side because I really wanted to get this out on the quicker side (even though my quick is everyone else's slow). If you guys like it, I may continue to do some Regina chapters sporadically. Let me know what you think with a review! I would love to thank all of the readers who have favorited, followed, and reviewed!**

**MYEVILREGAL MYEVILREGAL MYEVILREGAL**

The sound of something slapping against my desk alerts me and drags my attention away from my computer screen. I look up and am not surprised to see Sidney Glass staring back at me. "What is it?" I ask him with quite a clipped tone. I don't have time for his antics. He flinches quite noticeably and I inwardly smile, glad to know that he remembers that he belongs under my thumb. Though he was such a pest, he could be useful at times. He sheepishly swallows and starts to stammer out something before he quickly looks down at the manila folder he had put on my desk, "I thought you might want to see this."

My eyebrows raise and I pull the file toward me. I look at his nervous face once more before slowly peeling back the edge of the folder. Curiosity soon takes over and I pull the whole cover off. I look down at the contents and my blood slowly starts to boil. I swallow thickly and look back up at him with anger in my eyes, "Why would you bring me this?"

He slowly backs away and puts his arms in front of him, "I- I thought you'd want to see it."

My knuckles are white as I clutch the file, "Why would I want to see this?"

He looks down at the floor, "I just thought..."

I stand, "You thought? Don't think Sidney. Don't do this again, or you will be sorely sorry."

He swallows slowly and glances at the door.

"Leave me."

He gratefully scuttles out of the room and it reminds me of a nervous little pest running from a predator. I look back down at the file and grind my teeth. I can't believe it. It was all her fault. If she hadn't come back, none of this would've happened. I frown. Maybe it was my fault- I shouldn't have gone and seen her. I shake away the doubt. No, it was her fault.

But inside, I know it wasn't her fault. It wasn't her fault that I had done what I needed to do. I look at the paper and think of what I should do with it. I could burn it. Simply throw it away. I could rip it to bits it in the paper shredder.

A moment later I find myself opening a drawer and grabbing a pair of scissors. I go to cut up the source of my distress, but soon I find that I am cutting in a pattern. Scraps of paper fall into my wastebasket- locks of red hair and blue eyes find themselves alongside mint wrappers and bent staples. Soon enough I am left with a single figure in the picture.

Emma. My Emma.

No- she was not my Emma. I had made that decision a long time ago. That train had left. I look at the photo and see the laughter shining through her eyes, the smile on her face. I find myself smiling until I realize that the smile is not directed at me. She wouldn't smile at me even if I was the one sitting along with her, would she?

I hold the picture up to the light before the sound of paper being spliced fills the room.

I look at the two pieces a moment and my mouth slowly falls open at what I had done. I rummage around my desk drawer once more and find a roll of tape. I place the clear adhesive on the pieces and slowly put them back together like a puzzle.

I place the picture in a drawer along with the scissors and the roll of tape.

I sigh and look at the ceiling. What was this woman doing to me? I had been the one to call it quits. I had no use having any emotions about the blonde. I shake my head; I don't need her. If anything, she needs me.

MYEVILREGAL MYEVILREGAL MYEVILREGAL

I scrub the pan with vigor until the dishrag is black from grease. I rinse of the dish and sigh when I see that food remains crusted to it. I'm about to dive back in when suddenly I hear a knock on the door. I look in the direction of the foyer. Quickly drying my hands on a nearby towel, I walk out of the kitchen and to the front door.

As soon as I open the door a smile spreads across my face, "Henry!"

I feel big arms wrap around me and I bury my face into his chest. I remember when he used to be the one who needed my comfort, but in his warm embrace I feel as though I'm safe from the world. I feel like finally part of my heart is normal, just for once.

"Mom," he breathes. I squeeze him tighter before we pull away. I can't help the smile that fills my face. He's been away far too long for my taste, "I thought you weren't coming until tomorrow."

He shrugs and smiles, "I didn't think I'd be able to, but classes let out early and I was able to get my stuff packed in time to come early." I gesture him inside and close the door behind him.

We stand in the foyer in silence for a moment before I quickly say, "Sorry the place is a mess- I wasn't expecting you."

He looks around at the pristine floors and bleach white table next to him, "Mom, the place looks exactly like when I left; it looks perfect."

I smile and look around, "Oh! Are you hungry? I've already eaten, but I have some leftover spaghetti that hasn't been in the fridge ten minutes. We can heat it up if you'd like."

"That'd be awesome," he nods.

We make out way into the kitchen and I head straight to the refrigerator. He sits on one of the stools at the island and begins to drum his fingers. I quickly place a large amount of pasta in the bowl, remembering one of the numerous times when Henry had told me that he was a growing man and he needed his food. I pop it in the microwave and turn towards him, "So, what has my big man been up to?"

He shrugs, "Lots of homework."

I laugh, "Well, college is schooling after all. Any friends?"

"Yeah! Of course you know Jared and Patrick from when you came to visit. My friend Camden and I have been studying a lot together recently since he's my partner for our science project right now. And there's this girl from my literature class- her name's Kristen…" he stammers.

I watch the blush that floods his cheeks and raise my eyebrows, "Kristen?"

He nods, "Yeah, she's really nice."

"So, have you asked out this Kristen?"

"Well, another friend of mine- Anna- is getting married and I asked Kristen if she'd like to go to the wedding with me."

I swallow, "A wedding? Kids your age are getting married?!"

He laughs, "Yeah Mom. But to be fair, Anna is actually older than me."

She couldn't be too much older than him. I frown. People getting married that young? That meant that my baby- my Henry could very well get married soon? I try to imagine Henry standing at the altar, waiting for his bride. But I stop trying to picture it, because the image I see is horrifying. It's not my baby at the altar- it's someone else. The memory floods over me full force.

… … … … … … … … … … … …

I sit in the back of the room all alone. No one dares to attempt to sit by the almighty mayor. People exchange pleasantries and smile at one another while I receive an occasional wayward glance, as if to say 'And why are _you_ here?'

Suddenly the lights begin to dim and everyone rushes to their seats. The room is filled with failed attempts at whispering and the shuffling of feet.

A man walks out of an unseen room and onto the altar, his arms at his side. The pastor follows behind and quietly waits somewhere behind him. Soft music begins to fill the room and the doors on the back wall open.

Mary Margaret and a 13 year old Henry walk down the aisle, arm in arm. By the time they reach the end of the room, they split and go separate ways. Next, Ruby and David proceed to do the same thing. Couple upon couple walk by. But then, the room is completely silent and we all know it's time.

Everyone turns in their seats to look at the door. Everyone except me. Everyone lets out a gasp and smiles. One pair of footsteps walks across the room and soon enough, she's passed by my pew. I watch the back of her white dress. Beautiful sewing and embroidery covers the fabric.

The man smiles and I can tell by his expression that she's smiling back at him. They join hands and look out at the crowd. The pastor steps into the window behind them and smiles, "Today, we are here to join two people in holy matrimony."

The couple looks at each other.

The ceremony goes on monotonously, but I pay attention to every detail. Soon enough, the ending is near and everyone knows it.

The pastor clears his throat and looks at the bride, "Emma, do you take Neal to be your lawfully wedded husband? 'Til death do you part?"

… … … … … .. …. .

I look at Henry who sits before me, "And what did she say?"

He smiles, "She said yes."

I feel something stab through my heart. I nod, "When will you pick her up?"

"Well, the wedding is on Sunday, so I'll head back Saturday and pick her up in the morning."


End file.
